Eat That Turkey

 

Spent Turkey Day 2011 in Baltimore with my ladyfriend's family, where we ate a kickass fried turkey. I've gone the fried turkey route once before with my family, and after my 2nd round, I'm hooked. So much better. Dare I say it was a moist, succulent bird.

My favorite job is to stand outside and watch the turkey cook in oil. If I smoked cigars, that would be a perfect complement, but I just drank beer as my turkey-cooking activity, and it was pretty great.

I did fail at my only real job, which was to push a button when some light started blinking. I pushed it once the blinking started, but the blinking did not stop. I did nothing else, and was shortly thereafter relieved of duty.

After gorging for two days, I've been pretty much immobile since.

Big thanks to the Ladyfriend's Family for hosting me and giving me simple jobs.  Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Skewed

If this little test had been run with bacon and cheese instead of iced tea, no way the folks of Cincinnati would have been so honest.

Extra kudos to Chicago, where I'm surprised anybody could bend over far enough to pick up said bottle. If there's one place that likes fried fatass food more than Cinci, it's gotta be Chicago. I think one artery starts to close up when you get off the plane there.

Cinci Flavor

On my way to lovely Northeastern Indiana last weekend (really), I was lucky enough to fly through the Queen City. Technically, I flew through Northern Kentucky, which made me feel a bit dirty, but I digress.

With an hour to spare, you know I was looking for some chili. Even though all that was available was Gold Star (the redheaded bastard stepchild to Skyline), I dove in and devoured that cinnamon-flavored slightly watery goodness in no time.

I did not feel well on the flight. Some things are worth the pain.

The Ethiopian Egg

Ethiopian food is one of the kickass things I learned existed when I moved out of the Land of Chili and took up residence in DC. I'll admit it's not for everyone, though...you have to eat with your hands, which is pretty f'n gross sometimes, but I don't mind when Ethiopian food is on the table for some reason. Another case of situational ethics, I guess.

Another issue is that you'll get some food served up that you really have no idea what it is. My best advice is to grab a double handful when that happens. Just dive in and own it. I think I've eaten some animal's stomach more than once, and that ish was outstanding. Had I known it was stomach, I would not have gone forward with the eating.

One thing I always recognize, though: The Egg. For some reason, if you get one of the group platter meal things (just a shitload of food on one big tray, so multiple sets of hands can be a-grabbin'), they 'garnish' it with a gigantic hard-boiled egg. The egg is covered in all kinds of spices and sauces, and even though it's probably an Ostrich egg or something, I'm always pumped about eating that thing.

I usually have very little competition from the other diners, which rules. I'm happier when I don't have to share.

It's Springtime

At least it feels like spring today. And you know what that means? It means Ryan wants you to have some Rita's.

Shower Coffee

Some mornings, when I decide it's warranted, I reward myself with a truly special gift: Shower Coffee.

I figured that the shower is pretty kickass, and coffee also kicks ass. Instead of forcing myself to enjoy these pleasures individually, I decided to try combining them. It is glorious. It also lets me multi-task while not really doing anything. That's a daily goal.

The only required materials are fresh coffee, a cup (preferably plastic, for safety's sake), and a shelf that's above the Water Zone in your shower.

The great thing is that it's not limited to coffee. Tea and beer are also acceptable shower drinks, in the right circumstances. I haven't figured out the full list of rules yet.

Innards Be Damned

Went out to dinner with my ladyfriend earlier this week, and we checked out a Mexican restaurant known for their tacos. I love tacos, so I knew this was going to be a good time.

Looking through the taco menu, there were some promising options...goat meat? Check. Baby pig? Hell yes. Shredded pork, cow tongue, seared fish, all in taco form. Solid taco options (except for the fish, which is f'n GROSS). But then I saw it, at the bottom of the menu:

Chapulines. Aka, Fried Grasshoppers. Sounds nasty, right? I ordered that shit and dove right in.

It was indeed pretty nasty. But I still ate (most of) it. Helped down with plenty of beer and water. Somehow my innards survived. Maybe they're getting stronger, like Rocky during a workout montage.

Zombies! No Vomit! Bacon!

Saw The Crazies this weekend, and if you like some zombie-related violence, blood and Orwellian paranoia, check it out.

I also ate some incredible steak and bacon, tacos, fried green tomatoes, deviled eggs and fried chicken. I skated outside without dodging (much) snow for the first time in 2 months. I saw my favorite stand-up comic (well done, Campbell) and there was no human, feline or unclassified vomit to be seen anywhere.

Haven't had a weekend that good in a long time. I'm already giving Monday two middle fingers because it's gonna suck in comparison.